


Tea and Sunshine

by sugarplumsenpai



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-09-30 09:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10160567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarplumsenpai/pseuds/sugarplumsenpai
Summary: A collection of drabbles I wrote for tumblr.





	1. Counting Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first drabble goes to the lovely [raindrop_rouge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raindrop_rouge). Happy birthday, dear.  
> With heaps of thanks to [erenbaeger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/erenbaeger) for beta. <3

“You are beautiful,” Eren says one night, his soft-spoken words cutting sharply through the quiet darkness surrounding them and making Levi blink open his eyes to meet a pair of shining eyes that regard him intently. 

A contradictory frowns forms on his brow, disagreeing and puzzled. Levi isn’t vain, but he knows his body is too small for a grown man, forged by a life on the streets that only taught him how to survive, leaving behind nothing but broad muscles on too feminine limbs, and a too translucent skin paled by an ongoing lack of sunlight and proper nutrition. His movements are sharp and directed, efficient and precise. Not round and smooth like Eren’s. 

His face isn’t pretty either, with the droopy eyes that are too small and colourless, half-lidded, shadowed, and bruised by too many restless nights and cruel days, by sorrows and grief and loss, with his pitch black hair that stands too much in contrast to his bloodless skin. His cheekbones are too prominent, his lips thin and chapped. His beard, if he could grow a decent one, would be patchy and just as odd-looking as he is himself. Something that should have been more than it is. 

His hands are petite and calloused, his feet cicatrised after years and years of being tied to the straps. His back is marked by them as well, his neck too thin and aching from the weight on his shoulders. 

Words don’t come easy to him, and when they do they are harsh and curt and vulgar, and too often not what he really wants to say. His personality is jagged and his spirit jaded, his core blackened by blood and broken beyond repair. 

A life in the darkness has made his body strong at least, battered and branded, but powerful and chiseled as well. It’s making him capable of dealing with whatever is thrown their way, able to do his best to protect. He’s a weapon, edged and deathly and violent. 

But beautiful…no.

And yet he can see it in Eren’s eyes that he meant every word. Their green and blue is paled by the silvery light of the moon and the lingering traces of sleep, but their intensity is just the same as always, conveying nothing but serious honesty and openness. 

Levi swallows and reaches out with a rustle of the bed sheets to brush over a prominent, brown eyebrow, a stubbled cheek, a soft bottom lip that wraps around his fingertips to catch them in a kiss. 

Eren, Levi knows, isn’t really what others would call a raving beauty either. His hair is mouse brown and mussy all the time—a wild beast like its owner, always vivid and fighting against an invisible force, stubbornly defying anyone’s will in untidy strands that beg to be touched and caressed and ruffled—or combed—, but also daring to try. His skin is tanned by spending his whole life under the merciless sun, the fading stripes around his neck and wrists dividing the parts where the heat kisses him every day from the part that’s always hidden under his clothing. 

Despite all of Eren’s hardship there is no single scar on his body, making it into something that shouldn’t really exist, something dangerous and surreal, something barbarous and threatening, something contradictory. 

Then there are his eyes. Not quite as big as they once used to be, but still as expressive. Two shiny, burning flames of neither green nor blue and somehow both, that haven’t lost their feral fire over the years and oddly stand out in that still boyish face that should be much more tarnished than it is. They are just as unnatural as the rest of him.

He is perilous and an oxymoron simply by existing, by still living and breathing. He’s abnormal.

And yet, to Levi, this man is beautiful. Gorgeous even. And then some.

Eren’s pulse is speeding up under Levi’s touch, making him think silly things and dream against all odds. Eren’s body is pristine and warm, teaching Levi that time heals all wounds—at least the ones one can see—and that there is hope. The fury that has once dominated Eren’s features has abated, cooled down into a dangerous, unstable simmer that will never leave completely, and yet every time he holds Levi Eren’s hands are gentle and kind, even when the hunger between them boils over into a rough, all-consuming need. 

They trace Levi’s ugly scars as if they were saying hello to a dear, old friend and when they come to rest against the nape of Levi’s neck the fingers begin to play with the stubbles of his undercut in caressing circles like it is everything they ever wanted to do. 

When Eren looks at him his eyes are like a pair of gems that seem to have a direct link to Levi’s soul, unyielding, endearing, and enticing, gazing at Levi and laying him bare as if he was the answer to all of Eren’s hopes and dreams, the remedy for all his sorrows and tears, a guiding light through the darkest of times. Levi looks back and Eren holds him there, steady and unwavering, until Levi can feel the blush rising on his chest, his arms, his neck, his cheeks, and ears until the cool night begins to sting on his skin. 

“Bastard,” he whispers, and Eren chuckles. Pokes Levi’s nose. Snuggles closer. Smiles. Fills the world with colours and ease.

His laugh is like the sun glistening on the ocean’s surface on that early spring day, fickle and warming, dancing and cheering, lively and vast, lifting and grounding at the same time, like listening to the water caressing the shore in affectionate waves and to the breeze whispering through the marram grass nearby whilst feeling the sand under his naked feet. It’s like seeing the open planes and birds for the first time, stunningly green and too much, yet never enough all at once. 

Levi has seen a lot of strange things in his life, but the one laying right next to him in their bed must be the strangest of them all. A miracle. 

And he understands. 

Beauty isn’t really something you see or that you can measure like tea leaves for the perfect cup. 

It’s something that can only be experienced in its entity, something so simple as blinking against the overpowering daylight after nothing but darkness and something so complicated as trying to count the stars up in the sky after being enclosed by clay and dirt for a whole lifetime. 

He still doesn’t know what it is that makes Eren look at him like he does. But when Eren pulls him into his arms to hold him against his beating heart and kiss the top of his head, their legs intertwining and their bodies sharing that wonderful heat close-close-closer, he knows it’s Eren’s right to see more than the eyes let on, just as it is his own, and he won’t question it, just as Eren doesn’t in return. 

Eren isn’t one to make false promises. Everything he is and does screams blatant honesty and commitment, and yet Levi expects with every passing day that Eren will change his mind eventually. 

But this is Eren and the world will cease to exists when he stops loving like he does, with everything he’s got. As long as he’s let he’ll press his velvety smile against Levi’s frown, and pass a silent promise with sweet brushing of lips, meeting of tongues, and connection of something Levi hasn’t found a name for yet. 

He seizes it nonetheless and wraps it around his heart, makes it his armour and his shield. 

Even though he doesn’t know how long it will last he at least has  _ this _ and the knowledge that once someone chose him and thought him perfect in all his flaws. 

He looks into these too sparkling eyes and smiles, letting himself fall as they begin to count the stars. 


	2. Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I suck at writing drabbles. And at plotting as well recently. That being said, I hope you have fun with these 3,5k words of almost pure meta. <3
> 
> As always, heaps of thanks to the wonderful raindrop_rouge for adding her fairy dust beta sparkles to this story and for being the bestest of friends. Also lots of hugs to erenbaeger and shulkie for all their lovely encouragement.

Eren isn't really sure what it is about Levi that goes under his skin.

There definitely is something that makes him want to look at him and soak up everything Levi does, only to make it his own. Something that makes his whole body tingle with excitement, and that he can't really put a finger on.

Maybe it's because of the whole hero-worshipping thing. After all, he's been doing it ever since he was a child and first heard about Humanity's Strongest. About how powerful he was and how mighty. How skilful and how important to the entirety of humanity.

A shiny soldier in a shiny armour. The perfect man. Without fault.

He was everything Eren ever wanted to be. And then some.

Eren liked to imagine being him, strolling through the streets of Shingashina, pretending everyone backed away, because no one could take on him. His work was beyond the walls, his mind and body free. The perspective of being a member of the Survey Corps had become more and more appealing with every day.

It wasn't about fame or glory. Never about being honoured. It was the simple wish of protecting everyone he knew and loved. The wish of freeing them all from their cage, making them able to see the world and explore. About showing them that he wasn't a freak and that they'd all been wrong. Because the Titans still were a threat, even with the walls… and what did they know!

Admittedly, maybe it was a bit about being honoured after all.

However, the protecting and freeing part truly was his strongest drive. When Eren's whole world got crushed down and broke into pieces it was that drive that kept him together. That and his revenge. Together they spurred him on and his goal seemed ever so bright.

Then, years later, he'd seen Levi for the first time. Seen him again shortly after that in action as the whole world changed once again, and Eren knew in an instant that what he'd known all along had been true: Levi was the best. No one would ever be as quick as him, no one ever as strong…except for Mikasa, perhaps.

Surely, Levi sometimes reminds Eren of Mikasa, or vise versa, but Levi has a certain vigor and grace to him that Mikasa has not.

Eren had met Levi again, actually talked to him; and then there was that courtroom incident.

He never understood why everybody thought he should resent Levi after that. Truth is, he never did. Didn't back then and doesn't now. Can't. Won't! On the contrary. What happened that day fulfilled him his life-long dream. Eren would have done anything to learn from Levi. Everything.

So he did. He followed him, observed him, strived for everything he could get. If Levi was annoyed, he didn't show it and Eren picked up a lot.

He learnt, for example, that Levi is a lot of things, and already was back then. Yet against Eren's former beliefs, Levi isn't shiny. His armour is, admittedly—polished as it always is, and clean. Glimmering swords, neat boots, and shiny buttons on his jacket too. The man himself though, is everything but.

Levi is odd-looking. Not that it would ever matter, of course. Levi is simply Levi. Eren couldn't care less about how small he is, or how big his head, how tired his eyes are, or how calloused his hands. All of that only makes him even stronger, more fascinating. Eren doesn't care about how a man of that age and profession is supposed to look older, less boyish perhaps, and less…delicate.

He hears the others talk from time to time and has learnt to let them. So he listens quietly to their theories and jokes. They make him angry, these jokes. As do the insults.

"Rat," some venomous voices say. "Bastard."

Eren clenches his fists. What difference does it make where Levi supposedly comes from? What difference does it make whether he's been properly trained or not! Levi is the best in what they do and every time Eren watches him during training, listens to his lessons, or looks into these oddly colourless eyes that remind him of swords and storm and water, Eren knows he is right. The others know nothing about this man.

Levi is the strongest of them all. He's the best in combat. His muscles are quick and precise. His eyes seem to see everything and his mind is just as sharp. His reflexes are astounding, his endurance is as well. Levi trains them to be the best, doesn't hold back on correcting them and Eren is is greedy for it, wants to be like that as well. Just as strong, just as capable. Despite the cruelty they have to endure, being in the Survey Corps, standing next to Levi, fighting side by side, is all he ever wanted to do. Finally actually being here, is the most right Eren has ever felt. It's his purpose, his fulfillment, his destiny. Levi is the aim, the destination, and his path all at once. It's powerful and thrilling, exhilarating.

Eren is in awe, because the rumours were all true: the stories of the best of soldiers, and their hope in him. Sure enough, Eren himself is Humanity's Hope by name. Yet he wouldn't even be here without Levi to begin with. As far as Eren is concerned, Hope means a calm voice and a guiding hand in which he trusts.

Still, in all his perfection, even Levi has his flaws. What he has in the field of fighting, he admittedly lacks a bit in speech. Then again, talking is not what they do out there, is it? Also, it's not Levi's fault that the others don't really listen in the first place. Because if they would, Eren thinks, they'd have to accept that Levi talks perfectly fine. He's always got the exact right amount of words at the exact right time. Mostly, anyways.

Levi doesn't do superfluous conversation—or anything superfluous, really. He doesn't do ingratiation, or pleasantries. Levi is a direct force, and encountering him is like being hit with a hammer. Eren understands that, respects that, admires that. He's always has despised silly talk, meaningless promises, or false primness anyway. So many people simply say what they think out loud, like an endless stream of words without purpose. Levi doesn't. Every word is selected and weighed. On the rare occasions Levi praises Eren, it feels like elation, because Eren knows he's really done well. Anything less wouldn't be good enough for him.

Levi is the strongest in emotion too. When others cry after the battle or despair, Levi can walk on, head held high, and stare. He'd walk right past angry citizens whilst ignoring their spatted accusations. Eren never has been able to do that. To shrug off the scorn like Levi does, at least on the outside. Levi is the best in what they do, so Eren tries to get better in that field as well.

He doesn't know how Levi does it, but Eren likes to imagine he's improving.

He's proven wrong, when Jean says something stupid at lunch one day and Eren can't do anything else than punch him in his ugly face and yell.

Afterwards he fuses with regret and shame, which doesn't really make it better. He wants to grow up and be able to act like it too. Still, he can't help but being this imbecile sometimes. There's still such a long way for him to go. It's times like this, when he asks himself if he ever will become like Levi. If he'll ever become worthy.

Worthy of what exactly, he doesn't really know.

Sometimes Eren wonders why he is this way in the first place. What it is that drives him to the things he does. Like never giving up and throwing himself right back into training, again and again, no matter what. There's still that freedom. Of course there is—it has to be! He has to believe in it, or otherwise his whole life would lose its purpose. Or wouldn't it?

So Eren continues looking up at Levi.

He sees more with every day.

He sees that Levi has a soft side too. Or rather a caring and—against all spiteful rumours—a gentle one. Eren has known for a while that Levi loves animals. He's always talking to his mare, sometimes more than to other humans throughout the whole day. Levi's voice would have a different tone when he does so, lower and warmer. Affectionate.

Content, Eren realises. And then there is the cat. He's been seeing it around HQ for a couple of times, but only when he watches Levi giving her fresh water one day whilst feeding her old crumbs of cheese with that secretive smile which he usually never shows, Eren knows why the cat is so fond of this place. Watching them silently with a rising warmth in his chest, Eren starts to wonder if it applies to himself as well.

Levi cares for children too. He's always listening to them at the orphanage, not only hearing them, but actually listening in that serious way of his. He's asking them questions, or sometimes helps to repair the little toys they have with steady, skilful fingers. He is patient and wonderful that way. Eren thinks he's known that about Levi all along too.

Levi also has a sad side, and sometimes Eren fears it will consume him one day. It's in a certain blankness of the eyes every once in a while and in a way his shoulders tend to tense up and appear narrow and fragile, as if a mild gust of wind could blow him apart, or shatter his facade and make him crumble. It's in the way his silence gathers around him like a heavy cloud of dark despair from time to time. It's also in the way his fingers press against his head sometimes when Levi thinks nobody is looking.

Eren does look, however, and he begins to make sure that little things work. He starts to see that HQ is always clean and checks the results himself so Levi wouldn't have to worry too much. He learns how to brew tea correctly and trains even harder. He begins to talk more often to Levi, about work and random stuff alike, although when it comes to words, he's just as unskilled, just as awkward as the other man.

Despite their mutual clumsiness at conversation, they understand each other pretty well, though. Eren learns to tell a real joke from a deflecting one. He learns to read Levi even without speaking. He learns that his own smile seems to have a soothing effect on Levi, so he doesn't hold it back like he used to to appear more serious, more grown up.

He learns that Levi talks quite a lot actually, although it's without words mostly. Instead it's with little gestures and movements, the way his eyes would shine or darken barely noticeably. The many forms of Levi's frown that all have a certain attraction to Eren.

There's that absorbing frown when Levi hears or sees something that he finds interesting or worthwhile. There's that approving frown when his tea is brewed to perfection, or when the drills have went well. There's that serious frown when he's giving orders or receiving them, the deep one that means his foot is cramping, and that stormy one that tells he's got a headache. There's the concealing one when he's hiding a smile. The crinkly one that tells he's gotten no sleep again at night, and the shallow one that's, well, a regular, neutral frown without any real meaning.

Despite all the understanding, Levi simply irritates Eren. How he can be so calm all the time, even when he's angry! How he can go throughout a week without a single sign of happiness—can he not see that this world does have its beauties? How he can be this contradictory man with all his strength and his understanding, with all his steel and his heart that Eren sometimes thinks of late at night when he knows he should sleep, but can't. Simply can't!

Because he can tell Levi is lonely. It shouldn't be like that. It's completely wrong and unjust.

All the other soldiers have friends. Pals, partners, and companions they share their dreams with alongside all their hopes and fears. Their laughter and their tears. People they play pranks on and that share some warmth with them, simply because if they didn't, the world with its war and its cruelty would catch up on them. Without it, life would be cold and dark and devastating.

Levi has no one.

So Eren begins to poke Levi's foot with his own when he wants to talk. He once even manages to make Levi openly chuckle with a lame joke. Levi has dimples, Eren realises, as the thought occurs to him, that Levi should show them far more often, because they oddly become him.

They begin to take evening walks together. Sometimes silent, sometimes with a few shared words. When somehow that doesn't seem to be enough any more, they begin to spend their weekends together as well, using the shared time for some kind of dual practice which mostly is flying through the woods, or taking out the horses for a ride. Or sitting on the rooftop late at night, because Eren has found out that Levi never learnt to read the starry sky. It's good to give something back. To be able to teach something in return, and Levi is a quick learner.

Sometimes their elbows would brush and Eren would smile, because it feels like a much older friendship than it actually is; and a friendship it is. It is to Eren, has been for a while now. He can tell by the way Levi smiles at him in return that it is for him as well.

Still, Eren doesn't know what it is that winds him up like it does. His heart begins to race whenever Levi relaxes in his company and allows him a glimpse behind the usually so well-closed guards. Sometimes Eren's hands start to sweat while on other days his guts feel odd, as if he was sick or queasy. His heart seems to have a skittish will of its own lately too.

He begins to have restless nights, even more so than before, but now they aren't only filled with screams and horrors anymore. They are filled with images of tea and green cloaks flying through the woods. Of recollections of a low voice talking under a sky full of stars.

It only occurs to Eren, when he sits down one day at breakfast, his thoughts still busy with a dream he had. It has been odd, because nothing much had happened in it. All he'd been able to see was a pale warmth and then there'd been that chuckle. A warm breath against his ear with a hushed whisper of his name that had made him shiver.

It comes to him in a sudden flash when Levi enters the hall to take a seat opposite to Eren, as he always does these days. Levi's eyes fixate on Eren, not quite concealing an inquisitorial amusement at his shocked gape. After that it all happens very fast. Levi notices Eren's bright red ear lobes, because even after all the training in the world his rushing blood still can't keep a fucking secret, and there's a shift of the frown across the table from the slightly amused one to a puzzled one and then almost instantly an understanding and astonished one.

Grey eyes widen, shoulders stiffen. Meanwhile, all Eren can do is freeze as he stares back, swallowing when he realises that Levi is still there, looking, still frowning—curious now—and then tapping his fingers onto the table, one, two, three, and then once more. One, two, three.

Later, it says.

Confused, Eren frowns as well with a nod, and has to keep himself from jumping up in his chair when a knee suddenly nudges against his own in a silent question, before shifting away only barely so. Eren moves his own leg to tentatively nudge back, boldly letting his knee rest where it is. He looks straight back at Levi, who, by now, has begun to eat his breakfast as if nothing has happened.

Not even a minute has passed since Levi has entered the hall, but Eren's whole world has flipped over completely. His nerves are in uproar as he tries to comprehend and process what exactly happened. He also can't stop smiling.

"Eren," Levi says when he stands.

"Levi," he answers, only to be rewarded with the brief appearance of a dimple before Levi is gone. Eren makes haste to follow him for their weekend training.

He should have known that Levi would want to talk about it first.

They talk-not-really-talk for a long time. By the time they step into Levi's quarters for their habitual cup of tea, noon has melt into afternoon. Levi is still frowning.

It reminds Eren of the day Levi had admitted to not know any of the stellar constellations: the defiant tension of his jaw, the defensive way his arms are folded. His fingers twitch, and there's a restlessness in his eyes that tells Eren it is nervousness.

Somehow this is what makes Eren courageous enough for the both of them. He shakes his head in an unsaid  _"enough,"_  takes a step forward and holds the flitting eyes. There he waits, waits until the arms loosen their fold around Levi's chest and drop. Only then he steps even closer until their bodies almost touch, still not saying a word and yet knowing Levi understands him anyway.

_I'm not afraid. Not of you, not of this. I respect you, trust you, admire you, would do anything. Tell me to stop and I will._

Levi exhales. The air is filled with Eren's unspoken name against his lips and Eren wants to laugh and cry and burst and shatter all at once, because this is his permission.

Levi's hand is cool in his as Eren reaches for it. His hair is silky-soft, and his muscles are hard as they press their bodies together. Levi truly is small, but maybe that's a good thing, Eren muses, because Levi is already overwhelming as he is. As he looks up at Eren only a moment before their lips meet, his eyes still remind Eren of swords, metal, and fighting. It's all Eren wants, all he'll ever need.

Kissing is like learning how to talk all over again. It's stumbling and incoherent at first, learning by doing and not really failing, but bumping, smiling, and trying anew. Anew. And anew, until it is easy and effortless. It's a bit like learning how to fight as well. Learning to trust his body whilst trying to remain on his feet as they begin to seemingly dissolve, until every move feels like flying. Levi's thumb traces a line of fire across Eren's hipbone, making Eren whimper, shudder, and catch Levi's bottom lip with his teeth to tease back. Then their tongues meet, and Eren almost loses control in a constant repetition of  _yes, yes, yes, oh god, please, yes!_

Everything is too much. The sensation of his skin being too tight and too hot at once. The mere look of Levi, and his taste, his scent, his ragged breath. His body under Eren's hands as they begin to undress each other. Eren doesn't really notice anything apart from losing himself in firm paleness and a stormy grey as he tries to reciprocate everything he receives, stubbornly refusing to be passive. In hindsight he can't really say if it was better to be touched, or to touch in return, but he remembers Levi's hesitation to let go and only doing so after a whispered "please," followed by the feeling of freefalling as one.

He remembers being sticky together and giggling about it. Unguarded smiles and soft eyes, and finding out about how much Levi likes to get his back stroked while he nuzzles into Eren's embrace, feet ice-cold, arms enveloping. Lips sweet and kisses lazy, going on and on and yet going nowhere in particular this time. Tongues tracing, mouths exploring, fingers curling. Stomachs pooling with saturation and content at a mumbled "good night." It's so much more than Eren had ever hoped for, yet it's surprisingly simple too.

Easy.

Eren knows he should be scared. They've lost too many people to believe it will last forever. Instead he lets his hand possessively wander over Levi's spine as he gently presses their bodies even closer against each other, feeling drunk on Levi in his arms, in his lungs, in his blood.

His doting smile widens even more when Levi relaxes against his chest while his breath becomes even and deep. Eren checks that a knife is nearby to protect them both during the night before he closes his eyes as well, dragging in a wonderful mix of tea, soap, black hair, and hope.

Eren still isn't really sure what it is about Levi that goes under his skin. Yet maybe, is his last, lazy thought before he drifts away into his own dreams, that is okay. It is what it is.

Tomorrow they can start finding out. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is loved <3


End file.
